


To trust a hope

by Ronile



Series: Muddy Boots Universe [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Female Gimli, Gigolas Week 3, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:17:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5330501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ronile/pseuds/Ronile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn's thoughts on the developing relationship between Legolas and Gimli.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To trust a hope

The party following Aragorn's coronation is in full swing when Pippin comes running up to him, babbling frantically about something happening in the garden. Aragorn follows him without question, naively expecting an amusing surprise that the hobbits have conjured up for the occasion. If that is the case, he thinks when he finally sees what has got Pippin so worked up, it is in very poor taste. He shouldn’t stare, he knows that, but he cannot help himself. Of all the things he could possibly have imagined seeing tonight, this is the one he is least prepared for.  

On the little wall at the foot of the garden, perfectly illuminated in the moonlight, like something inside a song, are Legolas and Gimli. He is not surprised to see that Gimli has changed out of her formal clothes, she is once again dressed like herself, and it seems he is not the only one who agrees that it suits her. Legolas’s arm is curled around her shoulders, and their hands are clasped, clearly visible on the grass between them. He has never before seen two people so totally captivated with each other, and so totally oblivious to their surroundings. Finally he turns away, determined not to intrude any further on this moment, but he is not fast enough to miss the gentle kiss out of the corner of his eye.

“They look happy, don’t they?” Says Pippin, smiling.

“Yes, they do.” Aragorn hears himself say. He cannot fault the young hobbit for his optimism. This is not the time to project his own fears and insecurities onto the couple. They will have enough of their own to contend with soon enough.

“Do you think he knew? Before tonight I mean?”

“That she was a woman? Or that he loved her?”

“Either I suppose.”

“Perhaps, but if he did he did not confide in me.” Aragorn refuses to feel hurt by the possibility, it is not his place to question, nor to presume. “I think we had best go back inside my friend. If they have anything to announce they will come to us in their own time.”

“I hope so. I would hate to think that they would feel the need to hide from us.”

“I do not think that is likely.” He smiles. “If it is they are doing a very poor job of being discrete.”

They head back inside, and Aragorn quietly locks the door that leads directly from the great hall into the garden. It will not stop the most determined from seeking fresh air, but for now it is the best he can give them.

The next day he has little time to think on the matter. There are meetings to organise, reports to read, and appointments to make. The work of a King is never done, and he knows that his own work is just beginning. It is late when he finally returns to the big house. Soon he must move to his new rooms in the royal place, but as long as his friends remain he will stay with them rather than be alone. There is a sense of peace and joy in the house that he craves more than ever now that his days are spent in service to the city. Soon he will have joy of his own, but that day has not yet come.

The house is quiet when he arrives. It is past dinner time, but there is a single slice of game pie waiting for him on the dining room table. He has no doubt that if he called down to the kitchen they would have a three course meal before him in ten minutes, but for now this will suffice, he has not yet grown used to eating more than he needs.

Craving company more than anything else, he takes his meal through to the sitting room. There he finds his friends, casually spread about the room. Frodo is reading a book, Merry is writing, Sam and Pippin are smoking. And there by the fire, are Legolas and Gimli. Gimli is leaning back against Legolas’s chest, her eyes closed, and a soft smile upon her lips. His hands are in her hair, teasing out the tangles and replacing her braids one by one. As he does so he sings, so softly that Aragorn can barely hear, but he does not mind, the words are not meant for him.

Slowly Legolas becomes aware of him standing in the doorway, unwilling to enter and disturb the peaceful scene. Their eyes meet, and for a moment he sees worry, doubt, fear, but then they are gone, and the elf simply nods. Aragorn catches sight of a glint of silver between his fingers, and he knows that if he were to look he would find the same upon Gimli’s. All Aragorn can do is return the gesture, smiling as Gimli opens her eyes and stepping forwards to congratulate them on their engagement. And if the smile is bittersweet, he hopes they do not see it. For now they are accepted and loved, and for now, that is all that matters.  

The rumours travel slowly, but travel they do. Most dismiss the idea as the fanciful imaginings of those who consumed a little too much ale at the celebration, but there are those who are certain of what they saw, and they will not soon forget. In the days that follow more than one person comes up to Aragorn to ask his opinion on the matter. As if his opinion somehow matters, as if he is the single authority on what is good and right in the world. He wishes he could laugh along with them, tell them he saw it coming, make light of it and hint at stolen glances and sleepless nights on the road. He wishes more than anything it were that simple, that love could conquer all, and that the difficulties facing his best friends weren’t just beginning. He wishes these sunny days in Minas Tirith could last forever, but he knows they cannot. So he smiles, and laughs, and evades the questions, and soon enough there is new gossip to occupy their minds.

The day Aragorn has been waiting for is finally drawing near, and he can hardly sleep for the worry and doubt in his mind. He wishes there was someone he could confide in, who could tell him that his fears are unfounded. That Arwen loves him as he loves her, and that she would never resent him for that, no matter what. But the dark corners of his mind will not quiet, and he cannot find rest. It is in those moments that the easy affection of his friends gives him strength, and he is glad of it. And if he occasionally catches Gimli’s eye, and sees the same guilt mirrored there that he feels in his own heart, he says nothing, for there is nothing that can be said.

It is midsummer’s day when she arrives at last, and the moment he sees her his doubts are blown away like smoke on the wind. When he runs to embrace her it is as though he has never known happiness until today, and from the light in her eyes he knows she feels the same. That is when he finally understands. She has made her choice, and it is not his place to question whether it is the right one. When the time comes, she will weep, and so will Legolas, but they will not regret making that choice. All they can do is make the most of the time they have, and hope that in the end, it is worth it.

 


End file.
